Talc had been stunned when he saw the door slide open to a room with a single goblin standing in it. The goblin had tried to limp away, body seemingly deflated and almost dessicated. Talc had stabbed it quickly in the neck before walking inside to investigate the room.Hundreds of goblin corpses littered the floor. And hundreds and hundreds of bones, piles of them so thick the floor crunched beneath him. He tsked. Surely those two hadn’t been killed by goblins or the dungeon before he had the chance to kill them himself.Evidently not; the red light guiding still led him to wait in the hall. The dungeon was guiding him, somehow, more clearly now. When he got tired of waiting and left down the hall, he ended up managing to circle back by this door over and over. He tried taking a dozen different paths over a few days. The dungeon had even baited him with food, opening a challenge room to a freshly cooked meal. Talc had taken a bite of it and waited hours to see if he felt any ill effect of poison. But no. The dungeon was just feeding him. Guiding him. Keeping him here.Like a dungeon monster. The thought unnerved him.Then the door behind him opened.It was the trained reflex and years of paranoia that saved him from being impaled. The moment a door he couldn’t see opened, he rolled forward.The blade that pierced the air above him was silent, coated in an edge of dark black mana that seemed to destroy even the whistling noise of it cutting through the air. And that dark black mana seemed to crackle, twisting and flashing with arcs of black lightning. The sword’s wielder seemed as surprised as Talc. That was new.The sword must have been an artifact rewarded by the dungeon. Talc licked his lips and fell into [True Stealth.]This time, he wouldn’t fuck around. He activated both of his offensive skills — [Quick Strike] and [Cutting Edge,] enhancing his Agility and Strength to end the fight in one blow, stabbing (...)